


Another Page Turned

by lifeaftermeteor



Series: Life After Meteor [22]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: BROTPs abound, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Gundam Wing: Endless Waltz, Post-Series, Romance, Slice of Life, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: eesti keel
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 6,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29242083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeaftermeteor/pseuds/lifeaftermeteor
Summary: Trowa and Quatre begin to explore their rekindled relationship further, Wufei begins classes in Paris and balances that with a happy - if geographically distant - marriage, Relena turns an ‘oops’ into an exciting new chapter, and Duo accompanies Heero through a journey of self-discovery.
Relationships: Chang Wufei/Relena Peacecraft, Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner
Series: Life After Meteor [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/391015
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part 21 of the [Life After Meteor series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/391015), which trails the Gundam Pilots (and others) through the years post-war. Welcome comments/feedback. And as always, I could never have done it without the unending support and beta reading by the delightful [tumbledrylemur](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tumbledrylemur/). Thank you so much! <3

**Rue Auguste Comte  
** **Paris, France  
** **29 January 212**

Wufei bolted down the street, gasping with exertion and laughter. His legs pumped beneath him, feet pounding the Parisian sidewalk. Behind him came the distressed shouting of his pursuer. It only made him clutch the treasure in his hands tighter as he wove a serpentine path between startled pedestrians.

The distress from behind him soon became breathless dismay and it was the shift that Wufei needed to hear to know that the lesson had been learned.

Wufei slowed his pace and came to a stop at the next corner. He took two deep breaths and turned to face his pursuer.

The paparazzi stumbled to a halt a couple meters away, clearly reluctant to get too close. His dark eyes were wide and horrified, flicking between Wufei and his hostage camera. Red in the face, he doubled over, gulping air.

_ “Now what have we learned from this experience?”  _ Wufei asked in French.

_ “Not to take pictures of a Gundam pilot?”  _ the man offered in response.

Wufei snorted and closed the distance between them.  _ “As much as I’d prefer that, you’d lose business to competition, I’m sure. The lesson—”  _ he said, handing the camera back to the owner,  _ “—is to stay out of reach of a Gundam pilot. Invest in a zoom lens. Don’t let me catch you again.” _

With a parting predatory grin, Wufei turned to continue on his way—cutting through Le Jardin du Luxembourg and leaving the stunned paparazzi in his wake.


	2. Chapter 2

**Winner Family Compound  
** **L4-V05001  
** **17 February 212**

Trowa lounged against Quatre on the couch in the library, their legs stretched out and comfortably entangled. After a day out—just the two of them, exploring the city—they’d returned to the Winner home to take advantage of the comparative quiet. 

Lulled by the domesticity of reading a book as Quatre’s chest rose and fell under his head, Trowa gathered the courage to ask something that had been gnawing at him much of the day. “You held my hand while we were downtown today,” Trowa said. “Why?”

“I wanted to,” Quatre answered, then seemed to reconsider. “Was that okay? I...didn’t ask.”

“I’m glad you did,” Trowa reassured. “I liked it.” He pulled away to sit upright and shook his head, eyes locked on the wall of books opposite him. Real wood shelves. It was yet another reminder of their two very different worlds. “I liked it, but it makes me wonder...how to keep the scales balanced. What could I possibly do or offer that…” Trowa shook his head as he struggled to put his swirling thoughts into words.

But then, quietly, Quatre said, “Peace of mind.”

Trowa turned then to regard Quatre and found him...small, uncertain. An unusual thing to see, and so he waited.

Eventually, Quatre continued. And as he spoke, he crumbled. “I feel more myself when I’m with you. I can be everything I’m not  _ supposed  _ to be because when I’m with you, I  _ can  _ be those things. I feel happy. Safe. Loved... _ Seen.  _ And I—” Quatre’s voice trembled, “—if I could give you that too...I’d hold your hand whenever you’d want for however long you’d let me.”

Trowa reached out and cradled his face in his hands. Quatre closed his eyes as the tears he had held back finally slid down his cheeks. Using his thumbs to swipe away the tracks they left, Trowa leaned in to press their foreheads together. “I see you,” he said as Quatre took a shuddering breath. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Quatre answered.

Trowa tilted his head and kissed him, humming when Quatre melted against him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Duo and Heero’s Apartment  
** **Brussels, Belgium  
** **15 March 212**

“I swear to God, man, if I have to listen to that fucker  _ for one more meeting  _ I am going to launch a stapler through his head.”

Heero snorted and turned to watch Duo pace across their small living room. Duo’s personal mobile was clutched to his ear as he moved like an agitated predator, back and forth across the floor. Heero couldn’t hear the reply from Wufei on the other end of the line, but he didn’t need to.

“I  _ know  _ I wanted this. I  _ know  _ I can handle him. But God  _ dammit _ —” Duo scrubbed his face with his free hand before combing his bangs back away from his forehead. “Oh don’t start,” he said, jaded laughter bubbling up from his chest as he spun on his heel and walked the other direction. “I may not be reorganizing the Preventers, but  _ you  _ never had to deal with Earth governments on the daily.”

Heero closed his journal, picked up the steaming cup of tea at his elbow, and walked over to the couch. Taking a seat, he drew his legs up and crossed them as he sipped the hot drink. His eyes followed Duo’s movements as the conversation with Wufei continued. 

After a time, Duo’s gaze landed on Heero’s seated form and his pacing skidded to a halt. Realization dawned on his face and then he said, “I have to go.” A beat of silence, followed by, “I have an audience.” 

Heero hid his smirk by taking another drink from the mug cradled in his hands. 

Pulling the mobile away from his ear, Duo told him, “Wufei says ‘hi.’”

“Hi Wufei.”

Duo bid his farewells to Wufei with a promise to continue their discussion later before ending the call and burying his face in his hands. He let loose a frustrated and muffled groan before he seemed to pull himself sufficiently together to look Heero in the eye.

Heero in response offered him the mug in his hand. “Have some tea.”

“Is there bourbon in it?” Duo asked as he crossed the small space between them and brought the cup to his lips.

“No,” Heero admitted, “but drink it anyway.” Duo hummed as he took a swallow and passed back the mug before climbing onto the couch. Heero pivoted so he could cradle his partner against his chest, the two of them nestled together. 

For a time, neither spoke. But then Heero ducked his head to press a kiss to Duo’s head and murmured, “I don’t know who or what has you so fired up, but it doesn’t matter. You’ll handle it, like you always do. But leave that for tomorrow, okay?”

Duo sighed heavily against him. But then quietly he asked, “Can I have some more tea?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Wufei’s Apartment  
** **Paris, France  
** **7 April 212**

Wufei and Relena had spent much of the last few days wandering Paris and taking in the sights. Relena had admitted upon arrival that she had never visited the city as a tourist, always shepherded from one official engagement to another. Wufei had been adamant that they change that, so with her plainclothes security detail never far away, they had hit the streets.

They had not enjoyed the same level of anonymity that Iceland had offered—Wufei had pointed out a few known paparazzi tailing them—but it had been a pleasant escape all the same and brought back memories of other times together. In the months he’d been a student, Wufei had grown back the scruff he’d had while working in Xinjiang and the crow’s feet forming at his eyes seemed to come less from stress than amusement these days. Relena, meanwhile, had felt the burdens of her office fall away piece by piece every moment she was with her husband.

_ Husband,  _ she reminded herself now as she shuffled forward through his apartment, blind. Wufei’s hands were clasped tightly over her eyes with firm instructions not to peek. Relena bit her lip to keep from laughing. The sound of the world outside drifted through the apartment, and she deduced the door to the tiny balcony was open, but what surprise awaited her she didn’t know.

At last, Wufei stopped her progress and pulled his hands away with a brief, “Okay.  _ Now  _ you can look.” 

Relena blinked her eyes open and gasped, clasping her hands together and pressing them shyly to her lips. From behind, Wufei wrapped his arms around her waist and ducked his head down to rest his chin on her shoulder. “Happy birthday,” he whispered.

While she had been showering, he had managed quite a romantic feat. The doors to the balcony had indeed been swung aside and presented a quaint and romantic oasis among the hubbub of the city. The plants Wufei had been nurturing all spring were spilling from their boxes where they hung on the railing. Lush and green, they offered some semblance of privacy from the casual onlooker. Candles and the rose-tinted sky from the setting sun gave the scene a soft, sweet light. A small table had been set with dessert—pastries and cakes she had confessed earlier in her stay to be her favorites—and a bottle of champagne chilling in a corner.

Relena spun around in Wufei’s arms and kissed him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Winner Family Compound  
** **L4-V05001  
** **15 May 212**

Quatre was awake.

This was not an uncommon occurrence, to be sure. Though the stress of heading up the behemoth that was Winner Enterprises was no longer his to bear, civil service brought its own kind of burdens and sleepless nights.

But that wasn’t why he was awake tonight. His thoughts teemed and roiled in his brain but not with policies or public engagement or infrastructure budgets. No, tonight his mind was occupied with much sweeter things: Trowa.

He sighed, shut the book that he had been trying and failing to read, and let his mind wander. Since the wedding and their...formally rekindled romance, Quatre often found his daydreams occupied with Trowa. What had been a fiery tumult in their shared youth had burned down to embers that warmed his heart and scattered his thoughts like sparks on a breeze. The sly smile and green eyes were more than enough to undo his carefully crafted composure, even when he only saw them in his imagination. 

Quatre was tempted to reach out across the distance that separated them, but resisted. Just barely. Touching that energy, tuning into that signal would only keep him awake longer. Though perhaps that wouldn’t be a bad thing… Quatre felt his cheeks heat and he shook his head to dispel the temptation. They both deserved more than that. Trowa especially deserved more than that.

But what?

Now this,  _ this  _ question was something Quatre could focus his mind on. A challenge. Trowa deserved so much of the goodness in the world and Quatre knew if Trowa asked him to, he would give him everything he could afford and then some. But he was also wary of Trowa’s penchant for suspicion surrounding gifts, especially those he could not repay in kind. He was a bit like Duo in that way, Quatre thought with a wry smile. Always looking for the angle, the catch. It took a long time to convince Duo that there wasn’t always one, at least not with Quatre himself. He assumed it would take longer with Trowa, given their history.

Quatre hummed softly to himself, turning ideas over in his mind. Something useful, something that could be repaid in some way. But something special all the same. He smiled and let his mind run.


	6. Chapter 6

**Relena Darlian’s Apartment  
** **Brussels, Belgium  
** **29 May 212**

When Relena missed her April cycle, she had thought nothing of it. She had been timezone hopping earlier in and then the brief vacation in Paris with Wufei had upended all sorts of patterns. So a bit of variation was to be expected and it had happened before. 

When she missed  _ this month’s  _ cycle too, it gave her pause. It was just as easy to wave off as the previous month, given the stress of her job...or so she told herself. But a week passed and a gnawing thought took root in her head. 

They had been careful,  _ always  _ careful. Well… except for the night of her birthday. But that was once in—what— _ years? _ Surely… 

But the thought lingered. If anything it grew in ominous clarity and she finally broke down. After a sleepless night, Relena prepared for her errand in the pre-dawn Brussels morning. She changed her clothes, donned a pair of colored contacts and fake glasses, and tucked her hair up into an oversized crocheted beret Hilde had given her. She paused in her preparations only long enough to alert a plainclothes security detail of her plans before she slipped out a back exit of the building and took off into the night.

Knowing that her detail trailed her from a suitably disinterested distance—enough not to garner attention to herself—Relena walked the nighttime streets, putting ever-growing distance between her destination and home. More distance meant less of a chance that some closed-network security system would connect the dots. When she did make it to the pharmacy she had mapped prior, she made her purchases with cash and headed back out into the night.

The walk home felt like forever and nothing at the same time. She entered her building by the back door and took the stairs two at a time to her apartment. She locked the door behind her, gathered the necessaries, and made a beeline for her bathroom.

All told, it only took a few minutes. 

Bracing her hands on the bathroom countertop, she looked from not one but  _ three  _ undoubtedly positive test results up to her reflection in the mirror and uttered the only thought that came to her mind.

“Shit.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Schbeiker Scrap and Salvage  
** **L2-V10328  
** **7 July 212**

Hilde picked at her lunch while she waited for the group video call to start. She had tucked herself away in the little room at the Salvage yard that had once, years ago, served as Heero and Duo’s bedroom. She had kept it as a bedroom for a long time, a place where wayward former Gundam pilots could come back to, should the need arise. But as the years passed and her family of colonial miscreants found their peacetime footing, she had done some renovations around the place. 

The space could still be used as a bedroom should any guests come calling, but it was more her sanctuary than anything now. Plants adorned the window ledge, drinking in the filtered colonial light. A new computer system was framed by books of all sorts and the closet in the corner housed both her work attire and the black evening dress she had worn during their last reunion in L4 a few years back. 

All her most prized possessions were in this room. It was the safest and most comfortable place in the whole lot. So when a call went out from Relena and Wufei for a group conversation, Hilde took her lunch inside. She shut the door to the sound of the yard at work and retreated into the clutch of quiet, booting up her system and joining the call.

She didn’t have to wait long. The hosts in question joined shortly after. Relena’s cheeks were pink in a soft flush as she tucked a lock of her honey blonde hair behind her ear. She looked happy and healthy. Well-rested almost, which seemed ironic to Hilde given her work. If anything, she would’ve expected Relena to look as sleep-deprived as Duo usually did, but that was not the case today.

“Thanks for joining everyone,” Relena began. “Wufei and I have news—” 

“Oh my God, you’re pregnant,” Hilde declared before she could stop herself. On-screen Relena stifled her laughter with the mute button while in another box Wufei threw his hands up in a display of defeated exasperation. 

The other four chimed in with their own exclamations simultaneously.

_ “What?” _

“Hilde apparently drank her ‘spoiling surprises’ juice today.”

“You two didn’t waste much time…”

“When? When are you due?”

Relena and Wufei recovered enough to answer the slew of questions, both of them sporting matching grins. They were so excited and it made Hilde smile.  _ I’m going to spoil this kid rotten… _ Looking at the tiles of excited faces, she knew she wouldn’t be the only one to do so. ****


	8. Chapter 8

**Duo and Heero’s Apartment  
** **Brussels, Belgium  
** **13 July 212**

Heero studied the case files scattered around the floor of the living room in the apartment he shared with Duo. Scribbled notes, photographs, descriptions of investigator theories only led to dead ends, as they had for decades. The crime scene photos he had carefully covered, hoping to grant the dead some semblance of the privacy that they had not been afforded when the images were first taken, catalogued, and subsequently forgotten. 

Before him was the scattered and skeletal remains of a cold case, the only one which had matched the scenario he had provided to Oskar Nilsson, his Preventers friend who had recently transferred up to L1-B10201 as the colony branch chief. 

The scenario was simple. Somewhere in L1, between AC 180 and 190, there had been a triple murder and a kidnapping. That alone did not inherently limit the search parameters, as L1 had been just as familiar with violent crime as its fellow colonies at that time. But it was the nature of the crime which Heero had hoped would narrow the field.

The deaths—two men and a woman—were killed close-range, execution style. No signs of forced entry or struggle. Professional, quick. One of the men had known connections to the mob. The other two were a couple and lived in the flat together. 

Their son would have never been found.

Oskar was a good friend and had been kind enough not to ask too many questions about why Heero was looking to get an inside scoop on cold case files in the L1 databases. Heero was grateful for that. 

In the weeks following, he had almost forgotten about the request...until Oskar emailed him back. “Of all the cold cases on record,” Oskar’s email had read, “this is the only one that fits  _ all  _ of your parameters. Let me know how and if you’d like to proceed.”

_ Proceed.  _ The word had made Heero’s stomach drop before he even opened the files. And what he found shook him. 22 August 187. Triple murder. Professional mob hit. A second shooter, whereabouts unknown. Missing child, never found. Dead end.

Heero swallowed thickly and swallowed past the vise closing around his throat. 

At that moment, he heard the bolt roll on the lock to the front door and Duo breezed into the apartment, his back to the common area. “Ya llegué,” Duo greeted. He shrugged out of his jacket and then finally turned, the half-formed words on his lips dying the moment he spotted Heero at the center of the living room surrounded by papers. “What’s this?”

“Cold case files. From L1.”

“Why do you have them…?” Duo asked as he approached, voice laden with confusion and no small amount of suspicion. 

“I asked for them.”

Duo mumbled some wordless acknowledgement and crouched down at the edge of the papers, dark eyes scanning them. Heero dropped his gaze and let his eyes roam the contents before him as Duo picked up a photograph. Heero had seen it already: a candid photo of a boy, young, maybe four or five years old. He grinned shyly up at the camera.

The blue eyes were unmistakable.

“Heero…” Duo began, hesitant, “what is this?”

Heero brought his thumb to his lips and gnawed at the nail. He’d been biting them down to the quick again, an old habit he had beaten… until today, apparently. “I don’t know,” he admitted at last.

“You said you asked for them.”

“I know. I…” Heero took a steadying breath and looked up at his partner. Duo’s eyes lifted up from the photo still held between his fingertips to meet his gaze. Heero continued, “I don’t know… because I need to provide a DNA sample. And I don’t want to ship it, so… I have to go to L1. To know.”

They were both quiet for a long time, studying each other amidst the paperwork and photos. And then Duo said, “I’m coming with you.”

Heero shook his head weakly. “Your work—” 

“I’m coming with you.” The tone left no room for argument, not on this.

Heero nearly sighed with relief, but all he said was, “Okay.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Bravo Quadrant, Residential Block  
** **L1-B10201  
** **15-16 July 212**

Duo had called off of work on emergency family leave. His team would be fine, he knew. And if the ESUN collapsed because he wasn’t herding cats, well...probably meant it was doomed to failure from the start.

He told himself that the dissolution of global government over the span of a week was an unlikely crisis scenario, but he also knew full well revolutions didn’t take much once you got one really going. 

But all of that paled in comparison to the days ahead. Heero needed him. Heero was strong and brave and harder to kill than anyone Duo had ever met, but… everyone had their limits. And the haunted look he’d seen in Heero’s eyes a few days prior, sitting there surrounded by what Duo could surmise was the story of his parents’ deaths… that was a lot to carry. 

Duo knew, since he’d carried it too. During their trip star-side, he had caught himself remembering the packet of information from L2 that had been dropped on his doorstep in Jakarta. The photo of a young woman with a lopsided grin and eyes like his and a name he didn’t remember. It had hurt so Goddamn-fucking-much that he hadn’t known what to do with himself except keep moving. He had mourned lost chances and had woken up with a bitch of hangover the next day, but had kept moving all the same despite the half-formed memories and ghosts whispering in his head.

Glancing sidelong at his partner as they checked into their hotel, he wondered what the ghosts were saying to Heero.

* * *

They spent the bulk of the next morning at the Preventers branch. Heero provided a statement and a blood sample, which the lab technician assured him would provide an answer the next day. Heero’s Preventers buddy Nilsson did his best to lighten the mood and treated them both to lunch, a gesture Duo appreciated. Before they had even received their meals, the tension had bled from Heero’s shoulders and his smiles came more easily. 

But like all good things, this peaceful camaraderie would not last. As they finished their lunch, Nilsson cleared his throat. “I realize it wasn’t exactly protocol,” he began, “but I called the leasing office to the building. Same company as when this all happened, if you can believe it. The unit isn’t currently occupied. If you think it would…help, in any way… I’ll call ahead and let them know you’re coming.”

The offer hovered between them, dark and foreboding. But Heero eventually said, “I’d appreciate that.”

The trip to the old apartment building passed in silence. Whenever it tipped toward oppressive, Duo would reach down and take Heero’s hand in his.  _ I’m here _ , it said and although the words were never spoken, the message was received—Heero would give his hand a squeeze back in acknowledgement and the weight of the silence between them would lift for a time.

The Blossom Courtyard leasing office—like their property—had seen better days, but the staff were friendly enough if perhaps a bit intrigued by these newcomers. Access key in-hand, an older portly man with a thick mustache and receding hairline guided Duo and Heero into the walk-up building toward the unit in question. 

Heero stopped at the railing overlooking the courtyard for which the complex was presumably named and asked suddenly, “What happened to the plum tree?”

Duo and their guide stopped and turned, startled by the question. The older man answered, “Poor thing got sick a few years back. We had to cut it down lest whatever got to it spread to other trees on-island.” He then turned and continued down the walkway. 

Heero acknowledged the answer with a nod but seemed to struggle to tear his eyes from the courtyard itself. Duo retreated several steps and took Heero’s hand in his own again.  _ I’m here, I’m here.  _ Heero shook his head and seemed to push back the memories that had infiltrated the present. Their eyes met and held for a long moment before they turned together and moved to rejoin their escort.

The man from the leasing office stopped in front of an otherwise nondescript door, unit number 27 if the number on the frame was to be believed. Turning the key in the lock, the door swung open and he gestured for them to step inside. 

How long the unit had been unoccupied, Duo couldn’t tell. The walls were painted, but flaking here and there. There was an old musty smell to the place, one that poked and prodded at Duo’s own memories of abandoned spaces. Not rotten or terrible, just...old. Unkempt, unloved, unlived in. A forgotten place where humans used to be. 

Duo turned to Heero and watched him take a few shuffling steps into the center of the room, his arms wrapping defensively around his midsection. Heero looked...small. Duo turned to the older man and asked, “Can we have a minute alone?” Their guide hesitated as he sized them up but then nodded and stepped back, indicating that he wouldn’t be far away. Duo thanked him and shut the door. 

“Do you remember what you asked me, when you found out about your mom?” Heero asked, his voice bouncing around the empty room. He turned to face him and Duo was startled to see the unshed tears welling in his eyes. “You asked if I remembered them, my parents.”

Duo nodded, taking a step towards him. “You said you didn’t.”

Heero gave him what Duo could only describe as a heartbroken smile. “I lied.” Before Duo could reply, Heero turned away again and began to move slowly throughout the apartment. “We lived here,” he said as he walked. “They died here.”

But then Heero stopped as he moved past the bedroom. Ducking inside, he crossed to the closet and sat down just inside. “What are you doing?” Duo asked, gently as he crouched next to him.

Heero ran his hands over the baseboards, the paint flaking under his fingertips. “There was something… a secret…” he muttered. He ran his raw fingernails over the seams of the false wood there but then clutched a section of the panel and  _ pulled _ . Duo winced at the popping and cracking of years of paint giving way, crying out against the abuse as…

A drawer slid forward. Disguised and hidden in plain sight, the shallow drawer at the base of the closet wall was all but invisible to casual onlookers, its presence entirely disguised by the panel itself. 

Inside the hidden drawer were the remnants of a little boy’s most treasured possessions—a toy car, an action figure, a few well-used crayons and a roll of paper. Heero reached out and withdrew the paper, gently unspooling it in his lap so that they could both see. Three stick figures holding hands, one of them much smaller than the others, smiled up at them. There was a tree with flowers in its branches and a building that looked like a crude representation of the one they currently occupied. There were lines at the top of the page juxtaposed with blue clouds floating in between them and the figures below, a child’s rendition of colonial living. 

A family. A happy family.

A strangled, broken sound escaped Heero’s lips and he dropped the drawing back in the drawer, his hands coming up to hide his face. Duo was on him in a heartbeat. He pulled Heero against his chest and whispered the words he’d only thought till now. “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.”

* * *

Heero was despondent the whole way back to their hotel. Together they had collected the contents of the drawer and stashed them away in various pockets to avoid questions upon their departure. Once bidding the leasing office goodbye and safely underway, however, Heero had pulled the toy car from his pocket and spun the wheels with his thumb. His eyes were unfocused, locked on some world Duo couldn’t hear or see and it worried him.  _ Shock _ , Duo told himself. 

Any doubts Duo had held in reserve about this excursion had evaporated with the discovery of the hidden drawer. Heero had had a loving family. And then they had been taken from him. That singular act of violence had only been followed by  _ more  _ violence. Years of hurt and death unmeasurable. One could argue that night had set Heero on the path to becoming a Gundam pilot… much as it had for Duo himself. He grimaced at the bitter taste in his mouth and instead focused on getting Heero home.

Once inside their hotel room, Duo bolted the door and guided Heero to the bed. “Strip and get in,” he directed, not bothering to turn on the lights. They undressed in silence and climbed under the sheets. Duo immediately pulled Heero flush against him, arms wrapped tightly around the man’s shoulders. Heero ducked his head under his chin, his breath ghosting over Duo’s clavicle. 

They lay together in silence for a long time, their breaths and beating hearts the only sound in the dark room. 

At last, the sound of Heero’s broken voice reached Duo’s ears. “I don’t know why he took me,” Heero murmured. “He was never unkind, but I don’t know why he took me. Why he didn’t kill me when he killed them. I don’t know why they didn’t run away, or at least hide with me. I don’t know why… why it  _ hurts  _ so much.

“How did you do this alone, while you were at school?” Heero asked, voice muffled against Duo’s chest.

“Drank heavily,” Duo answered with a grimace. But then he added, softer, “And I called you. That helped more than anything.”

The silence stretched between them again, this time raw and bleeding. Duo could feel hot tears against his skin but said nothing about them. He just held Heero tighter, kissed the crown of his head, and ran his hands through his hair. 

“I don’t want to come back here. Ever,” Heero said. 

“We don’t ever have to.”

“Don’t leave.”

“I’m not,” Duo answered, knowing there was more to the request than Heero could ever say. “I won’t. I’m here.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Relena Darlian’s Apartment  
** **Brussels, Belgium  
** **18 August 212**

“Happy anniversary,” Wufei whispered, leaning down to kiss Relena’s temple where she lay still curled sleeping in their bed.

Relena hummed softly and rolled onto her back, blue eyes blinking up at him in the soft morning light that filtered in through the gauzy curtains at her window. She stretched and yawned, her face contorting in a way that almost made Wufei laugh.

“I made breakfast,” he said as Relena pushed herself upright in bed, leaning back on the palms of her hands. Her hair was sleep-tousled, her eyes still heavy-lidded, and she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Wufei smiled.

“You’re awfully sweet this morning,” she murmured. 

“Ah, well. You haven’t seen the state of the kitchen yet,” he told her. Faced with the sudden look of abject horror that she leveled at him, Wufei winked, taking the threat out of the comment. 

Relena rolled her eyes and huffed a dry—but relieved—laugh. She then looked down at her stomach. Wufei knew that the slightest of bumps swelled from her lower abdomen, hidden by the blankets which had pooled around her when she sat up. Four months in. Five months to go. The thought filled him with… not fear, per se. An anxiety of some kind. Hopeful and flighty, almost giddy in its flitting about inside him. It was hard to pin down, but he thought perhaps he wasn’t supposed to. And that would be okay.

As if reading his thoughts, Relena looked back up at him. “First anniversary. Second trimester.” Wufei smiled at her and nodded. She then seemed to remember something. “Think the doctor would be okay if I still had some of the cake I ordered? I wasn’t even thinking when I called the bakery for it, and I realize it’s not technically on the ‘what to eat when you’re expecting’ approved food list but…”

Wufei chuckled and kissed her again. “Today is for us. I’m sure we can make an exception.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Cirque Ste-Croix, Staff Trailers  
** **L1-M10202  
** **30 September 212**

This was not the first time Trowa’s next photography excursion had come up during their video calls, but it was the first time Quatre had seriously pressed him about financing the trip. In full this time.

“Please?”

“No, absolutely not.”

“But—” 

“Quatre."

“—you let me pay  _ last  _ time.”

“I let you pay for  _ one stop _ within budget.”

“Which I did!”

“After finding a loophole.”

“Of course,” Quatre answered, sounding utterly unapologetic about it now that some time had passed. “Loopholes  _ exist _ to be exploited.”

Trowa snorted. “Is that the businessman or the civil servant talking?”

“...both?”

Trowa laughed, incredulous, but quickly sobered when faced with Quatre’s earnestness. “You’re serious,” he observed.

Quatre gave him a small smile. “I wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise.” 

“Is this a business or personal proposition?”

Quatre’s gaze turned inward as he considered the question. At last he said, “A business one.”

Trowa nodded and had to admit the answer made him feel a bit better. “But why?” he asked. “Why help? Why help to this degree?”

“Because you have a gift, Trowa. And you should be able to focus on  _ that, _ not making ends meet doing odd jobs.”

“I  _ like  _ odd jobs,” Trowa said, bristling.

“And I didn’t say you should  _ stop  _ doing them,” Quatre clarified. “But during your last excursion, how often did you stay in a location because you didn’t yet have the funds to move on?”

In the silence that followed, Trowa had to admit the number was not zero. For the last trip as well as all the times before it. He grimaced and looking at Quatre on-screen, he knew he understood.

“Think of it this way,” Quatre continued, “you get to focus on whatever it is you want—be it photography or living where you are as you are...knowing you can leave when you want. How much more would you do, how much more would you experience if you weren’t waiting for the money to add up?”

“So a salary?”

“A stipend.” 

“Sugar daddy,” Trowa teased.

_ “Safety net,”  _ Quatre countered, a flush dusting his cheeks.

Trowa chuckled and thought for a moment. _How much more…_ _‘Quatre gives because he loves you,’_ Duo’s words echoed in his head. “Alright,” Trowa said after a time. “But we’re going to do this right. I’ll write up some objectives, itinerary, budget...and bring it to you for a funding decision. A business arrangement requires a business proposal after all.”

Quatre’s smile rivaled the sun. “Quite right. I look forward to seeing it.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Duo and Heero’s Apartment  
** **Brussels, Belgium  
** **31 October 212**

“Happy birthday.”

Duo looked up, startled by the gift wrapped package that Heero had just shoved under his nose. He took it without thinking. “What’s this?” eyes darting between the package and his partner. 

“A birthday present?” Heero answered with a tilt of his head, his lips quirking up in a small smile. He took a seat on the sofa beside Duo and pivoted to face him, drawing a knee up close to his chest. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Duo told him. “It’s nice enough to spend the evening with you.” 

“Your birthday this year landed on Halloween. [1] I had to get you something, if only to stop you from thinking only about ghosts today.” [2] 

Duo chuckled. “I’m sure Trowa appreciates the reprieve.” He ran his thumb over the carefully folded seams of colored paper and looked up to ask, “Would you rather I wait, or open it now.”

Heero mulled the question and worried his lower lip between his teeth. After a time he decided, “Now.”

Given the greenlight, Duo made short work of the wrapping paper. Wrapped carefully inside was a journal he knew well. He had given it to Heero a couple years prior, on New Year’s Eve up in L4, and it had earned pride of place among Heero’s growing collection. Duo felt his heart race at the thought and opened it to reveal the first page that was marked only with Heero’s careful script under his own. 

_Fill the pages_

_— D_

_Mission accomplished, 31-10-212_

_— H_

Duo spared a glance up at his partner, noticed the way Heero worried the seam of his shirt sleeve—an old nervous tick that rarely manifested nowadays—and began to flip through the book.

Poetry. Pages and pages of poetry.

“Heero…” Duo breathed but could say no more. He read the lines as he turned pages and saw as much as felt the emotion churning beneath each word. Bittersweet heartache and longing. A great deal of amusement, as if the tight black lines of Heero’s pen strokes themselves laughed up at him. A glimpse of rare anger and hurt scattered throughout. And love. So much love. For darkness and starlight, early snowfalls, blood spilt, gun metal grease, hot sands, cool autumn evenings, and eyes the color of outer space. 

“Heero,” Duo tried again, looking up to meet Heero’s eyes once more and found them patient but expectant. “This is about us. This is all about us. Isn’t it?”

Heero gave him a weak smile and nodded. Duo was in his arms before Heero could even gather his wits about him to speak. And then Duo kissed him. “I love you,” he said when they parted. 

“I love you too,” Heero answered, his voice shuddering and overwrought. 

And so Duo kissed him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Duo and Heero pick new birthdays every year, a tradition Hilde started when they were all living together up in the L2 cluster.
> 
> [2] Duo has a proclivity for ghost stories on Halloween and likes to call Trowa to hear some of his latest.


	13. Chapter 13

**Darlian Family Country Home  
** **North Rhine-Westphalia, Germany  
** **24 December 212**

Relena sat with her feet propped up on a stack of pillows, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a cup of hot tea resting against her swollen belly. The child inside her kicked repeatedly to make itself known, but then seemed to settle once it had ‘spoken’ its piece...only to start the whole process over again moments later. 

She snorted and shook her head, taking a sip from the steaming mug. Clearly her child; clearly Wufei’s child. That much was already obvious. 

After dinner, Wufei and Mareen had insisted she rest in front of the fire. Wufei had even added, “For once,” to his request and that alone had made Relena acquiesce and get comfortable. 

The last eight months had been uneventful, all things considered. Yes, it was all incredibly uncomfortable—especially now—but both she and the baby had been in impeccable health for the duration. An ‘easy’ pregnancy, she had been told. So Relena had worked in Brussels up until Wufei’s classes in Paris ended earlier in December and the two had retreated together to the Darlian country home in Germany with her mother. 

They were close enough to a good hospital here; but more importantly, the country house offered privacy for the at-home birth they had painstakingly planned for since Relena discovered she was expecting. Once it became too difficult to hide her figure, the press had been nearly unbearable...for both Relena and Wufei, hounding their steps and asking all sorts of prying questions. The last thing she had wanted was to step out of a hospital wing with their new baby into a mob of flashing cameras and microphones. 

Thankfully, this home was apparently sufficiently off the grid to not warrant unwelcome squatters. She also trusted their neighbors enough to know that any intrepid paparazzi would be dealt with appropriately by relevant authorities should they get too close.

Relena sighed and shook her head, forcibly dispelling the thoughts. Before her a fire burned warm and welcome. Her mother had decorated a tree off in the corner. Everything smelled of ginger, cloves, and citrus, bringing back fond memories long past. She dropped a hand to her stomach and rubbed slow circles, soothing the latest round of impatient kicks from inside. 

“How are you feeling?” Relena looked up at her mother’s voice. Mareen took a seat on the couch near her, cradling her own steaming mug between her long-fingered hands. 

Relena smirked. “I feel like my bladder is the size of a cashew, my feet won’t stop swelling, and I can’t remember a time that my back didn’t hurt. But,” she continued, voice softening, “in a few days...I’ll get to meet her. And that makes it all worth it.”


End file.
